


this song goes out to you

by greyskieslatenights



Category: iKON (Kpop)
Genre: Angst, I Tried, M/M, Romance, au in which junhoe is a celebrity and jinhwan is not, is this considered angst i'm not sure lol, rating is for vague smut, this is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 19:11:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6671653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyskieslatenights/pseuds/greyskieslatenights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even though Junhwe's the one with records to his name, he thinks Jinhwan is the real star - he’s bright, warm, and something that Junhwe could never really have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this song goes out to you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [girltalk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/girltalk/gifts).



> originally written for exchangekon! what a mess this is c: it's been edited very slightly from the original post, but the overall content is the same. i vaguely considered adding another section because i feel like it's kind of rushed... but if i do it probably won't be for another thousand years.
> 
> the formatting is an experimental thing i thought of like three days before the fic was originally due, and shifty "song lyrics" are written by me. ~~kim hanbin i'm coming for your spot~~
> 
> i was advised by a certain someone to keep the name spelling as "junhwe" for this... so yeah. even though i usually spell it as junhoe lol.

_Intro:_

“Thank you all for coming,” Junhwe says, his voice still a bit breathless from finishing his previous song. He wipes off his forehead with a towel, dropping it at the foot of the stage before straightening back up and adjusting the microphone in his hand. “It’s been really great seeing all of you guys again.”

He hasn’t been on a stage in over half a year – this is his big comeback. It had been difficult convincing his management to let him perform his new album live for the first time at a concert instead of on broadcast, without even releasing the album first, but he had been adamant.

Nine tracks, all self-written, most at least partially self-composed; Junhwe had thought many times throughout the process that he should just scrap the entire thing. The end result, though, is something that Junhwe’s quite proud of – it’s a little raw, unpolished, but it’s genuine.  _Kind of like himself_ , a certain someone might say.

A certain someone who, maybe, the entire album is about.

But Junhwe digresses.

He’s already performed some of the songs tonight, but he’s saving the best for last.

“Unfortunately, the concert’s going to end soon, after this last song. You’re probably curious to know what it is, right?”

He points out his microphone toward the crowd, which responds with an enthusiastic scream. Junhwe’s missed this – the rush that comes with performing, the knowledge that all these people have come here to see  _him._  It manages to stroke his ego but humble him at the same time.

“This last song is the title song of my new album. It’s a song that’s very personal to me.”

Junhwe takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he remembers his pre-rehearsed introduction of the song. There are so many things he could have decided to say about it: who the song is about, why he decided to write it, how much it really means to him.

But none of that is really relevant. Junhwe’s never been the best at expressing his feelings in words, anyway. So he’ll let the song do the talking for him – it’s the best he can do, without spilling every last detail.

“I’m still not that great at writing songs yet, but I hope it was worth waiting all those months – ‘This Song Goes Out to You.’”

The crowd waits with bated breath as Junhwe takes his position, lights dimming behind him as the instrumental begins to play. He lifts the microphone to his mouth, ready to sing and leave everything out on the stage.

And Junhwe’s taken back to how it all started.

 

 

_Verse One: I wasn’t looking for love when we first met, but maybe I just hadn’t met the right person yet. You talked to me first, and I expected the worst, but that one night was all it took._

Junhwe’s sitting at a bar, a quiet one in the middle of nowhere (as in the middle of nowhere as one can get in Seoul), watching the ice in his second whiskey melt. He runs a hand through his product-free hair, bangs falling over his eyes, resting his makeup-free cheek in his palm.

Here, he’s not Koo Junhwe, chart-topping vocal sensation and moderately successful songwriter, but Koo Junhwe, twenty-five year old young man who could really go for a nap.

His long fingers trace absently along the glass, condensation cold against his fingertips as the little droplets start to collect and trail down the glass, pooling onto the napkin underneath. He’s bored, but this beats sitting at home alone – he’s between promotions, having wrapped up his most recent album a month prior, and he’s old enough and far enough along in his career that no one feels the need to breathe down his back every second of every day. He’s never been marketed with a squeaky-clean image, anyway: always the bad boy with messy hair and dark eyes and a smirk that’s been described as “panty-dropping.”

(Junhwe’s never specifically tried to test that, and he’s not entirely sure he wants to.)

“Take a break,” the executives had said, “we’ll do a concert tour with a new album sometime before the end of the year. The fans and critics liked it more when you wrote your own songs, so take this time to come up with some new material.”

The problem, though, is that Junhwe has spent nearly the entirety of the past month sleeping, watching the same movies he’s already seen a thousand times, or getting drunk when his king-sized bed seemed just a little too wide for himself and his body pillow.

And sure, Junhwe  _could_  write an album about the woes of the single man. It’s not like there isn’t an audience for it, and he doesn’t even have to make it about single men, just single people in general. But Junhwe’s no stranger to singing and writing songs about being alone – a good number of his previous songs have had that same theme.

Short of throwing all caution to the wind and releasing an album about potatoes (Junhwe thinks this might land him some favor with the under-ten age group and possibly farmers, but not with anyone else), there’s only one genre left that he’s left largely untouched.

Romance.

Junhwe knows plenty about romance, at least in theory: he knows a thousand and one different ways to have a first date, knows that the best way to kill a mood during a kiss is to keep your eyes open, knows that sex can often make or break a relationship, knows that breakups always, always hurt, even if it’s mutual and even if it’s just a little.

The problem is that’s just it – it’s all theory. And Junhwe doesn’t like to do things by halves, preferring actual experience than just pretending he understands from secondhand accounts.

Obviously, the solution is that Junhwe needs to fall in love, but this is much easier said than done. While there certainly is no shortage of people who find him attractive and would be more than interested in dating him, Junhwe’s always been an all or nothing kind of guy; he’s not opposed to the occasional one-night stand, but those require no emotional attachment, versus even the most casual of relationships. Besides, most of those people are just fans who know his face, know him from what he’s said in interviews, more interested in Junhwe the celebrity than Junhwe the person.

Junhwe’s never been much of a people person, either, which makes things exponentially more difficult when first impressions are everything and Junhwe’s been told he looks mildly terrifying, disinterested, and just about everything in between – none of which are particularly well-conducive to attracting someone he’d like to spend a good amount of the foreseeable future with. Where does one even find someone to date, anyway?

(People always say that the things you’re looking for are closer than you think.)

“You just gonna stare at that all night?” a soft voice asks from his left, bringing Junhwe out of his thoughts.

Junhwe looks up in mild alarm – his first instinct is  _oh shit, what if someone recognized me?_  – as narcissistic as he sounds, he’s had to drop more than one of his favorite places because overzealous fans wouldn’t leave him alone.

The source of the voice turns out to be an innocuous-looking man who barely looks old enough to be in here, chin propped up on his fist as a hint of a teasing smile flirts at the corners of his lips. If Junhwe had to describe him, he would probably say he’s inoffensively good-looking, but not necessarily someone he’d look twice at.

And yet here he is, continuing to look. He blames the whiskey.

“Are you gonna do something about it if I don’t?” Junhwe counters, trying to keep his voice as neutral as he can, but he can’t help the hint of sarcasm that seems to lace almost everything he says.  _A goddamn PR nightmare_  is what his manager, Donghyuk, calls it, but Junhwe likes to take most things that Donghyuk says with a grain of salt.

“Just trying to make conversation, is all,” the man replies, taking a sip of his own drink – wine, dark red. “You seemed… preoccupied.”

Junhwe raises an eyebrow, swirls the whiskey around before taking a long drink, the familiar burn at the back of his nose and throat not quite a comfort but not unpleasant, either.

“Happy?”

The other man quirks his lips. “No.”

“Then why’d you say something about it?”

“Like I said, conversation.”

This guy, Junhwe thinks, is kind of starting to get on his nerves.

To his credit, the other seems to notice (or maybe it’s the way Junhwe’s eyebrows are already furrowing together), running a hand through his hair and biting his lip. “Maybe we started off on the wrong foot. I’m Jinhwan.” He extends his right hand out towards Junhwe, who looks down at it and stares for a few moments before reaching out in turn.

“Junhwe,” he says, taking the other’s hand in his own. Junhwe’s watched enough romance movies to know that usually, if you’re attracted to someone, this is the first time you feel that ‘spark,’ where you just know that this is meant to be.

Junhwe’s never felt a spark when touching someone else’s hands before, and Jinhwan is no exception. But Jinhwan’s palm is small and warm in his own larger grasp, and neither of them are quick to let go, until things have stretched on just a little too long to be normal and Jinhwan withdraws his hand.

“I know,” Jinhwan says, his fingers curling around the stem of his wineglass. “Rockstar extraordinaire, Koo Junhwe.”

“You’re not a groupie, are you?”

Junhwe asks the question more as a formality than anything else – he’s sort of past the point where he can run out and pretend this was a case of mistaken identity.

Jinhwan laughs, a soft, light sound. “I’d say I’m a casual listener, if nothing else.”

“Should I be offended?”

“You can be whatever you want to be.”

Junhwe shrugs. He decides it’s not important, and finishes the rest of his drink, signaling to the bartender for a refill. Jinhwan swirls his wine around, tips the glass up a bit toward his nose – his movements are easy, practiced. It’s a little fascinating to watch.

Or maybe that’s just the alcohol talking.

“You drink wine?” Jinhwan asks, gaze darting to the side to look at Junhwe, who shakes his head.

“Never really had much of a taste for the stuff.”

Jinhwan hums in response, taking a sip. “Maybe you just haven’t found the right one?”

Junhwe feels like maybe that’s supposed to be some sort of life metaphor, but he’s also not particularly in the mood to wrap his brain around double meanings.

There’s silence for a few beats, as both of them continue to drink. Junhwe’s not sure how to continue the conversation, and he’s got no idea what Jinhwan’s thinking, if anything.

“So tell me, Junhwe-ssi,” Jinhwan says, startling Junhwe just a little, “what brings you here?”

Junhwe’s a little bewildered by this question, gesturing to his glass with one hand. “Drinking? What else?”

Jinhwan’s eyes curve up a bit in quiet laughter. Junhwe’s heart flutters just a little, but alcohol can do that, right?

“You’re right,” Jinhwan replies, setting his now-empty wineglass down onto the bar. “Although I don’t suppose you’ve got any better conversation topics?”

Junhwe shrugs. “I guess you could tell me why  _you’re_  in here.”

“Same as you, obviously.” Jinhwan tilts his head, shooting Junhwe a cheeky smile before asking the bartender for a glass of water and something that sounds like ‘merlo.’ He thanks the bartender, taking a sip of water after it’s been placed before him. “But if you want to know the reason behind that, I suppose I could tell you.”

Usually, this is the part where Junhwe closes off, no longer interested in continuing conversation. But for some inexplicable reason, he replies with, “sure, why not?”

“I haven’t been here before,” Jinhwan says, and it’s almost like a confession, the way he leans in closer to Junhwe, “but I was passing by, and it seemed like a nice place.”

“I like it,” Junhwe agrees, “it’s… nice. And usually no one talks to me.”

“Do you not like me talking to you, Junhwe-ssi?”

It’s a final out, if Junhwe wants to take it. One last chance to say no, to pay his tab and leave without another word.

There’s something oddly compelling about Jinhwan, though. So Junhwe decides to tell the truth.

“No, I don’t mind.”

And minutes somehow bleed into hours, a couple more drinks consumed between the two of them, and Junhwe’s not sure when the dim overhead lighting started shadowing Jinhwan’s features in a mysteriously alluring way, but he’s finding that he’s increasingly glad it is. Junhwe hasn’t talked this much at once in a long time – hell, it’s the most he’s even spent in the presence of another person in a month. Talking to Jinhwan is easy; the other man just seems to exude a sense of familiarity, knowing just what to say to make Junhwe talk about when he was in high school while still not pressing him to the point where Junhwe feels compelled to spill just  _how awkward_  he was in high school.

It’s nice. Almost comforting, Junhwe might say.

And yeah, the fact that Jinhwan’s starting to look more than a little attractive helps. Junhwe takes back what he thought before – Jinhwan’s definitely worth a second look.

“Is this the part where we have a one night stand?” Junhwe asks, just a hair this side of not tipsy enough for this shit, but also tipsy enough to make poor life choices, leaning heavily on the bar.

Jinhwan doesn’t appear quite as drunk as he is, but there are spots of color high on his cheeks as he grins lopsidedly. “Have you tried having sex while drunk?”

Junhwe shrugs. “Maybe? Probably? I don’t remember.”

“And this,” Jinhwan slurs a bit, “is the point. You’d want to remember this, right?”

Junhwe looks at Jinhwan, at his tousled hair and his cute smile, his collared shirt unbuttoned two from the top, his tie loose around his neck, and thinks  _yeah_ , he would like to remember this.

Junhwe leaves the bar in a taxi with a scribbled phone number and a name on a napkin in his pocket.

 

 

_Pre-Chorus: Didn’t know what to say, never done this before, but you made me think it was all okay, made me want so much more._

Junhwe doesn’t call immediately – the encounter is brushed to the back of his mind after his hangover the following morning and the napkin goes forgotten in his hoodie for a couple of days before Junhwe pulls it back on again one afternoon, shoves his hands in the pockets, and comes up with it.

 _Kim Jinhwan_ , it says, followed by a string of numbers. Junhwe almost throws the napkin in the trash before he remembers Jinhwan and his wine glass and his sweet smile, and he swallows dryly before flattening it out on his kitchen counter and tapping the phone number into his contacts list.

He’s always been more of a texter than a caller, so he presses down on Jinhwan’s newly-added name, touches the ‘send a new message’ option, opening up a white screen.  _hey,_ he types, thumb hovering over the word ‘send.’

And then he pauses.

If he sends this message, it will mean that he’s interested in Jinhwan, at least on some level. It will mean that he’s letting someone else into his life, for the first time in a very long while, and it’s someone that hasn’t been introduced to him for work.

It will mean there is no turning back.

Well, that’s a little dramatic, maybe. But Junhwe will deny that he spent around an hour with that three-letter word unsent in the text box as he ate lunch (slightly burnt kimchi fried rice).

Eventually, he decides to hell with it – who’s to say Jinhwan will even respond? Maybe he won’t, and Junhwe will have agonized for the past hour for no reason at all.

So he presses ‘send,’ placing his iPhone down on the table, fully intent on ignoring his phone for the next hour, because he doesn’t want to reply too quickly on the off chance that Jinhwan  _does_  reply, but then he realizes something rather important.

Jinhwan doesn’t have his number – at least, Junhwe doesn’t recall giving Jinhwan his number.

Junhwe picks up his phone again with a sigh, types out  _this is junhwe_ , considers whether or not to add any other explanations, and then proceeds to give up and send it as it is.

He’s once again reminded why he doesn’t get out much. Talking to people is difficult.

To Junhwe’s surprise, his phone vibrates barely a minute after he’s sent his second text, his phone screen lighting up with a preview of a message from ‘Kim Jinhwan.’

Junhwe closes his eyes and counts to a hundred before he opens them and pulls up the message.

_Kim Jinhwan: hey junhwe-ssi!! i was starting to think you’d never contact me_

Junhwe stares at the text for another minute, trying to figure out what he should send back. It’s times like this he wishes he had friends to ask for advice on these things, but all he has is Donghyuk, and Donghyuk would probably laugh at him.

His phone vibrates again:

_Kim Jinhwan: if you’re not busy, maybe we could meet for coffee?  
Koo Junhwe: when?_

He sends this before his nerves get the better of him, his grip tight around his phone.

 _Kim Jinhwan: are you free now?_  
_Kim Jinhwan: there’s a cafe i know of that’s nice_  
 _Kim Jinhwan: not a lot of people_

Junhwe briefly considers the rest of his plans for the day – they consist of lying on his sofa and eating ramyun, and he decides that yes, that can most certainly be done another time.

_Koo Junhwe: yeah i’m free  
Koo Junhwe: where is it?_

Jinhwan sends him the name and location of the cafe. It’s not too far away, so he tells Jinhwan he’ll be there in half an hour and sighs.

Clearly, he’s going to have to do a little better than week-old sweats if he’s going out today.

It’s not terribly hard to find something decent to wear – most of his clothes are in simple designs and greyscale colors, so it’s more of a matter of figuring out what’s clean. He pulls on a pair of black jeans from the floor that doesn’t smell terrible and a grey baseball jacket over a white t-shirt, grabbing his wallet off of his bedside table and shoving it into his back pocket, followed by a black face mask. He stops to look in the mirror, fingers toying with the ends of his hair before deciding to just leave it be. He doesn’t need to look that impressive, does he?

Junhwe shoves his feet into a pair of well-worn black laced boots, making sure he has his phone before leaving his apartment and walking to the street to catch a taxi. He loops the mask over his ears, eyes darting around a bit. Junhwe’s tall, cuts somewhat of an imposing, familiar figure, but it seems like the few people scattered about on Tuesday at half-past one in the afternoon don’t really care much if there might be a celebrity in their midst or not.

He flags a taxi down, slipping in the backseat and showing the address to the driver, who punches it into the GPS and drives off without a word.

A few minutes into the ride, though, Junhwe starts to wonder if he’s just made a huge mistake. He doesn’t really know much about Jinhwan, other than his name, face, phone number, and a couple of odd facts he remembers from that night at the bar. Jinhwan could be luring him to his death for all he knows – one never knows what lies behind a pretty face.

Junhwe eventually figures that Jinhwan wouldn’t try anything in a public cafe, and decides resolutely not to follow him into any alleyways after they part.

All too soon, the taxi’s pulling up in front of the cafe. Junhwe pays the driver and steps out of the cab, straightening his jacket and taking in a deep breath before walking through the door. Junhwe’s not quite sure what he’s supposed to do at this point – is he supposed to buy his drink first, or go sit down?

Jinhwan, however, answers the question for him, rising from his seat in a corner of the cafe and walking up to Junhwe. He’s dressed in slacks and a dress shirt with a tie, similarly to how Junhwe remembers the way he looked a few days ago – he supposes either Jinhwan’s on his lunch break, or he really likes dressing up for some reason.

“Hey,” Jinhwan says, a bright smile on his face. His voice is just as as soft as Junhwe remembers, and standing like this, Junhwe realizes that the top of Jinhwan’s head just barely clears his nose.

“Hey,” Junhwe replies, pulling down his face mask, unsure of what else to say. “Um, nice to see you again,” he tacks on lamely.

“Nice to see you again too.” Jinhwan gestures to the table he’d come from. “I’m sitting over there, so you can order and have them bring it over.”

“Is there anything you recommend?” Junhwe asks, his eyes flicking over the posted menu. He’s relatively familiar with the standard drinks, but if there’s anything particularly good, he’d like to try it.

And he kind of really wants to hear Jinhwan’s voice again. Which doesn’t make any sense, since he’s presumably going to be having a conversation with the other in a few minutes, so he’ll be hearing it a lot anyways.

Junhwe’s been making a lot of strange life choices lately, it seems.

“Their lattes are quite good,” Jinhwan says. “Not sure how you take your coffee, but I like the caramel one, myself. If you’re not into sweet, the regular ones are just as good.”

Junhwe nods, stepping up to the counter. He opts for a plain latte, figuring that it’s best to try something plain first to taste the coffee more directly. Plus, he’ll always be able to come back another time—wait, another time?

“I’m, um, sitting over there,” Junhwe tells the cashier, pointing in the general direction of the table Jinhwan had mentioned before.

The cashier nods, handing him a wire stand with a number on it. “We’ll bring it to you when it’s ready. Just leave this on the table.”

“Thanks,” Junhwe says.

“By the way, you look kind of – are you that singer…?”

Junhwe blinks. He knows exactly what she’s talking about, but he’s mostly just stalling for time until he can think of a good response. He’s been in this situation before, multiple times, but every time he still ends up at a bit of a loss. He loves his fans, really, but he doesn’t want to have to be turned onto ‘celebrity mode’ all the time; it’s exhausting. Plus, he doesn’t really want this encounter to end up plastered all over the internet in a few hours – it wouldn’t be fair to Jinhwan, if he ended up getting caught in it.

Junhwe settles for an eyebrow-raise and a slight smile, handing his credit card to the cashier. She looks down at the name, then back up at him, and her eyes widen slightly. She doesn’t say anything more on the topic, though, simply handing back the card with a “thank you.”

Jinhwan smiles, leading Junhwe back to his table. He returns to his seat; Junhwe sits opposite from him. Jinhwan takes a sip of his own coffee, while Junhwe tries to figure out what he should do. If he recalls correctly, Jinhwan was very easy to talk to, but the last time they spoke, there were the added benefits of alcohol and the nighttime setting that helped lower Junhwe’s mental boundaries. Here, in broad daylight, Junhwe’s feeling very out of his element and incredibly awkward. Is he supposed to start the conversation, or wait for Jinhwan to say something?

Junhwe ends up alternately looking at the wood grain of the table and a spot on the wall just above Jinhwan’s head. He  _would_  look at Jinhwan, only he’s pretty sure he would end up looking like he’s glaring at Jinhwan instead of admiring his face. Donghyuk’s told him he has a resting bitch face.

“Nice place,” Junhwe finally says, after what feels like a short eternity.

Jinhwan lets out a short laugh. “I’m glad you approve of my taste in cafes.”

A server arrives with Junhwe’s cup, setting it before him. Junhwe thanks him, grateful for the diversion, however brief. He tries the coffee – it’s pretty good, and he tells Jinhwan this, who responds with a smile.

They lapse into an awkward silence again. Junhwe finishes half of his latte before he wonders if Jinhwan’s actually  _waiting_ for him to say something first.

“What, um, brings you here?” Junhwe asks. “Like… what’s up?” It sounds horribly lame. This is why he never goes outside.

“Well,” Jinhwan says, and Junhwe’s starting to wonder if the reason why Jinhwan keeps smiling is because he’s trying not to laugh at him, “I felt like getting coffee, and you happened to text me, and you were available. So here we are.”

“Yeah.”

Jinhwan raises an eyebrow. “You were a lot more talkative the last time we met.”

“Alcohol,” Junhwe says succinctly. “It always helps.”

“That’s true.”

The conversation dies again, and Junhwe sighs. There’s this weird tension between them, and it’s unsettling. This is probably made worse because Jinhwan’s decided to loosen his shirt, and Junhwe’s suddenly wondering what Jinhwan looks like with more buttons undone.

“Look,” he says finally, “this is… not going so well. I’m not a great conversation partner. And you probably have better people to spend your lunch break with, so maybe we should just pretend this never happened?”

“I don’t mind.”

“Okay then, I’ll be going—what?”

“I said I don’t mind,” Jinhwan repeats. Why does he keep smiling? It’s making Junhwe’s heart do weird things.

“Oh,” Junhwe says. The whole thing feels very anticlimactic.

“You’re interesting, Junhwe-ssi,” Jinhwan says simply. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you before.”

“Thanks?”

Jinhwan smiles (again, what is with that?), pressing the home button on his phone to check the time, his lip parting slightly in acknowledgement as he puts it into his pocket.

“I’ve got to run,” he says, sounding ridiculously apologetic, “my break’s about to be over in about five minutes, and I need to get back to the office.” He stands, re-buttoning his shirt and adjusting his tie, slipping his suit jacket back on and picking up his briefcase from beside his chair. “It was nice talking to you, though.”

“We didn’t do much talking,” Junhwe replies.

“That… is true,” Jinhwan chuckles. “Maybe another time?”

Junhwe’s amazed that even after this, Jinhwan’s seriously considering meeting with him again.

Junhwe’s amazed that even after this, he’s seriously considering it, too.

“Sure,” he says, rising to his feet. The next words come out before he can stop them: “I could walk you back? If you want.”

“That would be nice,” Jinhwan replies. There’s that repressed smile-laughter again, Junhwe notes, as Jinhwan’s eyes curve up, his lips pulling back to reveal even, white teeth. Junhwe kind of wants to make Jinhwan smile more, even if it is in reaction to his ridiculous awkwardness.

It all feels so high school – Junhwe walking his crush back to class, or something. Only Jinhwan’s not a crush (is he?), they’re both grown men, and the walk from the cafe to one of the many office buildings in the area is significantly longer than the average hallway.

There are no words exchanged between the two of them, but Junhwe’s finding that it’s starting to get  _less_  awkward, while simultaneously making him more tense. It’s probably because Junhwe’s finally starting to relax in Jinhwan’s presence, while also freaking out because Jinhwan’s arm keeps brushing up against his.

All too soon, they’re standing in front of a tall glass building. Junhwe didn’t even realize they’d stopped until he’d almost crashed into Jinhwan’s back – all the buildings kind of look the same. They stand for a few moments in silence, until Junhwe finally clears his throat.

“Well, it was nice to see you again, Jinhwan-ssi,” Junhwe says, shoving his hands in his pockets. He feels very out of place surrounded by all the office workers – despite having plenty of experience wearing suits and being around other people wearing suits, it’s almost always been in the context of some kind of music event or a meeting with executives. Spending this much time out in the open is something he hasn’t done in a long time.

“Likewise,” Jinhwan replies, adjusting the strap of his bag across his chest. “Oh, and Junhwe-ssi?”

“Yeah?”

“I looked up your profile online,” Jinhwan says as he opens the glass door. “You’re three years younger than me. Call me hyung if we’re going to keep meeting, okay?”

And then Jinhwan’s off with a smile and a wave and Junhwe’s standing in front of an office building feeling oddly stunned that that just happened.

“Jinhwan-hyung,” he says to himself experimentally as he turns around to catch a taxi back home.

Is it weird that he thinks it sounds nice?

 

 

_First Chorus: I thought what we had was love, almost hit me right out of the blue, the way you fit right next to me and made me feel something new. I never wanted to let go, I thought that this was true. If you’re listening to this, baby, know that this song goes out to you._

It’s almost frightening how easily Jinhwan slips into Junhwe’s life.

One coffee date (was it even a date? What constitutes a date?) turns into exchanging more text messages (Junhwe finds he’s much better at those), which turns into dinner after Jinhwan gets off work a few days later. It’s a remarkably casual affair, just going to a hole-in-the-wall  _kalguksu_  restaurant run by some grandmotherly women who give them extra food because they’re “attractive young men and the one with the eyebrows is too skinny.”

“Is this how all celebrities take their secret dates out?” Jinhwan asks, smiling cheekily as he takes a piece of kimchi from the  _banchan_  dishes.

“Were you expecting something fancy?” Junhwe asks, swallowing a mouthful of noodles. “I don’t really do fancy.”

Jinhwan shrugs. “You’re the first celebrity I’ve ever spent a significant amount of time with. And on TV and all you’re kinda…” He trails off, gesturing at Junhwe’s hair. “Very aloof?”

“That’s a kind way to put it,” Junhwe says mildly. “Usually I’ve heard people say ‘bitchy’ and ‘mean.’”

Jinhwan frowns a bit, setting his chopsticks down and leaning forward, his elbows resting at the edge of the table. “You’re really not, though. You’re just awkward. It’s kind of cute.”

Now  _that’s_  a word Junhwe doesn’t often hear associated with himself. “I—what?”

“You’re cute, Junhwe,” Jinhwan repeats, sitting back again. “Why else do you think I keep talking to you?”

“This could be a long-winded plot to kidnap me for ransom.” Junhwe picks up some bean sprouts, chewing thoughtfully. “I don’t know how much I’d be worth, though.”

Jinhwan laughs. Junhwe still doesn’t know why it’s giving him weird heart palpitations.

( _It’s probably because you like-like him_ , a little voice in his head says.  _Shut up,_  Junhwe tells it.)

“I promise, I’m not going to kidnap you. If anything, people would probably think you’re kidnapping  _me._ ”

Jinhwan’s right, of course, but Junhwe doesn’t think about that as he pays (his long limbs get him to the counter before Jinhwan can) and they leave the restaurant, the night air a bit chilly as they walk down the street.

“I’ll treat you next time,” Jinhwan grumbles, wrapping his jacket tighter around himself.

“There’s going to be a next time?” Junhwe half-teases, half asks. “Besides, you do realize I’m kind of rolling in it, right? And aren’t the younger ones supposed to pay?”

Jinhwan sighs, fixing him with a look that says this is not up for debate. Junhwe lets him have it – there are other battles more worthy of being fought.

“I’ll text you tonight?” Jinhwan says, as they reach the entrance of the subway station.

“Yeah.” Junhwe bites his lip, not sure of how else to respond.

The wind ruffles Jinhwan’s hair a bit, making him look even more youthful than he already does. It’s cute – not that Junhwe’s into kids, or anything gross like that, but he’s cute. Jinhwan is very cute.  

Suddenly, Jinhwan’s leaning up, tiptoeing a bit as he brushes his lips against Junhwe’s cheek. If he hadn’t been paying attention, Junhwe might have missed it. But as it stands, he’s just shocked as Jinhwan settles back down on his heels, waves, and descends the steps, swept up in the crowd in an instant.

 _Fucking hell_ , Junhwe thinks as he hails a taxi, his cheek still burning where Jinhwan had kissed it.  _Kissed_ it. Jinhwan  _kissed_  him.

This fact replays through Junhwe’s mind all night, keeping him in a daze – he barely notices that the taxi’s pulled up in front of his building, barely remembers actually entering the building or his apartment, plopping down on his couch and staring at his turned-off television.

This means Jinhwan definitely does like him that way, right? Junhwe’s never had much experience with it, so he really doesn’t know. It kind of makes his head hurt, so he tries to push it to the back of his mind as he changes into sweats and reads random things online to pass the time (and avoid over-analyzing the events of the night).

Jinhwan texts him around eleven, Junhwe’s phone vibrating right as he’s finished getting ready for bed and is about to go to sleep. He dives for it immediately, unlocking his phone to read the message:

_Kim Jinhwan: goodnight, june-yah!!  
Kim Jinhwan: ...do you mind if i call you that, actually, it just seemed cute._

Junhwe flushes a violent red, swallowing thickly as he remembers that Jinhwan called him ‘cute’ earlier in the night. His heart is keyboard smashing, but his mind forces him to respond calmly and rationally.

_Koo Junhwe: no i don’t mind  
Koo Junhwe: gnite hyung_

(Junhwe falls asleep feeling oddly satisfied.)

Before Junhwe even realizes it, another month has passed in a flurry of texts and hangouts and not-dates and he and Jinhwan have gotten closer still. But it’s ambiguous, a little more than friends and a little less than not. It’s been gnawing at Junhwe almost constantly, and he doesn’t do well with uncertainty.

“What are we, hyung?” Junhwe finally asks one evening, as he’s walking Jinhwan to the subway station on a Friday night, nearly a month and a half after they’d first met. “I mean, like, are we dating? Because it feels like we are, but I don’t want to push you—”

Jinhwan stops him with a finger pressed against his lips, pushing him against a gap between two buildings so they’re hidden from view, another one of those infuriatingly charming smiles on his lips.

“We can be whatever you want us to be.”

Junhwe swallows thickly, a thousand times more nervous than he’d ever been before. His heart’s hammering in his chest faster than it had the first time he’d ever performed live – facing Jinhwan, standing here in front of him, is more nerve-wracking than any faceless audience.

“I want,” he says, wrapping his hand around Jinhwan’s wrist and lowering the elder’s hand from his face. He feels a lot more certain than he sounds, “us to be something. That is, I like you a lot, hyung, and I mean I don’t know if you make it a habit to chat people up and sort-of date them, but—”

Jinhwan shuts him up again, this time with his lips. They’re soft and warm and a lot of other nice things, but Junhwe’s finding it increasingly difficult to think. His brain is probably having the time of its life short-circuiting right now, but he can’t really bring himself to care.

 

 

_Verse Two: You became someone I'd never forget after a while, from the way you teased me to the soft curve of your smile. Every second that we spent, and every single happy moment, made me never regret taking a second look._

“Earth to Junhwe.”

Junhwe glares at Donghyuk, who’s staring at him from across a pot of simmering soup. Donghyuk gives him a very pointed look, glancing between Junhwe and his phone on the table, one eyebrow raised.

“You gonna tell me why you’re glued to your phone?” Donghyuk asks, half-kidding, half-serious as he picks up a slice of beef with his chopsticks and dunks it into the broth. “This is unusual, even for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Junhwe retorts, snagging Donghyuk’s meat when he’d let it out of his chopsticks for just a moment. He grins, chewing slowly as Donghyuk glares at him.

“You are horrible,” Donghyuk sighs, but simply takes another piece from the plate beside them. “Don’t change the subject, though. You’re obviously talking to someone. And you keep  _smiling._  It’s kind of weird.”

Junhwe shrugs, swishing around some noodles. “Is it weird to smile if you’re happy?”

“Yeah, if it’s you. So spill.”

Donghyuk’s got his ‘disapproving mom’ face on. Junhwe seriously considers just getting up and leaving right now, only Donghyuk’s got a lot of tricks up his sleeve that could make his life hell.

Plus, he figures his manager is a good person to have on his side.

“I have a boyfriend,” Junhwe says, pulling the noodles out and putting them in his bowl, trying to keep his voice as nonchalant as if he were saying “I have a bag of chips.” It’s the first time he’s admitting it out loud to anyone (this is mostly because he doesn’t actually  _have_  anyone else to admit this to. Absently, he wonders if Jinhwan’s told anyone).

Donghyuk, of course, will not be thrown off that easily. “You  _what?_ ”

Junhwe says nothing else, slurping his noodles loudly. Donghyuk’s expression twists oddly, and he runs his a hand through his hair.

“Let it be said that as your manager, I thoroughly disapprove of this and advise you to keep this strictly on the down-low,” he says at last, his voice only barely stern before he breaks out into a smile. “As your friend, though, I require that you tell me everything.”

“Since when were we friends?”

“Since I’m treating you to dinner, dipshit.”

“You know all that money is because of me, right? And watch your mouth,  _Dongdong,_  what if someone heard you calling their precious June-oppa a dipshit?”

Junhwe’s still grinning madly as Donghyuk kicks his shin under the table.

“You’re ridiculous,” Donghyuk grumbles, “but seriously, Junhwe. I’m happy for you. How long?”

“About… three months?” Junhwe exhales. He almost can’t believe it’s been that long already – it feels like it was just a few weeks ago that he and Jinhwan met, all their little dates and stolen moments in the back of Jinhwan’s car blending together into what’s probably been the best few months of Junhwe’s life.

He feels a little relieved, somehow. He hadn’t been looking for approval – he’s never been one to seek out a second opinion if he’s certain of his own. But it’s nice to hear nonetheless.

The conversation turns to other, more mundane things after that – Donghyuk knows better than to pry into Junhwe’s personal life, and Junhwe doesn’t care to share.

“How’s the album coming along?” Donghyuk asks, resting his chin on a propped-up fist. “You do still remember your day job, right?”

“Funny you should ask,” Junhwe stalls. If he were to be completely honest, he’d forgotten all about it. It’s difficult to forget that you’re famous altogether, but being on hiatus and spending most of his time in a blissful waking dream had managed to wipe most other thoughts from his mind. He blames it on the fact that he generally tends to have a one-track thought process.

Donghyuk chuckles – they’ve known each other for years, and know exactly how to read between the lines.

“Don’t go shirking your duties, now,” he teases, wagging his finger before proceeding to snag the last piece of beef before Junhwe can react. “You still have a job to do. I would think, though, that it would be easier for you, now.”

“Huh?”

Donghyuk rolls his eyes. “Think about it. People are usually inspired by strong emotions. You, who usually makes it a point not to get swept up in feelings much at all, are suddenly struck dumb with hearts in your eyes.”

“I do not have hearts in my eyes—”

“The point is, Junhwe,” Donghyuk continues, “don’t you have a source of inspiration now?”

Junhwe considers this as Donghyuk pays for the meal, mentally cursing once it hits him. Donghyuk’s right (as always – it’s infuriating). Didn’t he think about writing romance songs before? He’s definitely got plenty of material, now.

He would feel weird, though, writing songs indirectly about Jinhwan without actually getting his permission. It’s not like anyone’s going to find out, unless Junhwe makes explicit lyrical references or ends up revealing everything on national television – neither of which he’s likely to do, since he’s notoriously private about his life anyway.

They part ways as they leave the restaurant, Junhwe hailing a taxi to head home. The Saturday night is still young, though, and he finds his thoughts drifting during the short ride back. Naturally, his thoughts drift to Jinhwan, wondering what the elder is doing. The last he’d heard from him ( _his boyfriend,_ Jinhwan is  _his boyfriend,_  and even just thinking that makes Junhwe feel a little giddy inside) was half an hour ago, before Donghyuk had started interrogating him.

 _u busy?_  he sends, drumming his fingers on the seat beside him as he waits for a reply.

It comes barely seconds later:

 _Kim Jinhwan: no, not rly. why?_  
_Koo Junhwe: wanna hang out at my place? we can watch a movie or smth_  
 _Kim Jinhwan: june you do realize i’ve never been inside ur building? what number?_  
 _Koo Junhwe: oh. right._

Junhwe’s sure his face is flaming red underneath his face mask as he text Jinhwan his address, replied to with a  _see you in 30._

This means, Junhwe realizes as he enters his apartment and takes in the relative mess of clothes strewn about his sofa and floor, that he has less than half an hour to get his apartment in a state that’s vaguely acceptable to be seen by other people – especially someone he wants to impress. Luckily, Junhwe’s long limbs enable him to zip around and grab his clothes quickly, depositing them in a corner of his bedroom where he hopes Jinhwan won’t notice.

Five minutes before Jinhwan is expected to arrive, though, Junhwe’s suddenly struck by the realization that he may have just indirectly propositioned Jinhwan. Inviting him over to watch a movie at night on a weekend? This is straight out of a bad movie.

Junhwe throws himself face-first on his sofa, screaming into a pillow.

It’s not like he’s never thought about having sex with Jinhwan before, and it’s not like he’s never had sex before, either. But he’s never had sex with someone he’s been in a relationship with – he has no idea how it works. He’s heard of the ‘three-date rule,’ but they haven’t even really been on defined dates. How soon is too soon? Has Jinhwan been expecting him to try and make a move already? Does Jinhwan even  _want_  to have sex?

Or maybe Junhwe’s just overthinking it. He’s been doing that a lot lately.

The doorbell rings, and Junhwe bolts off the sofa, taking a couple of deep breaths before he checks the video screen next to the door to make sure it is in fact Jinhwan, and not just some random lost person.

Junhwe opens the door, and is greeted with a soft kiss to the cheek as Jinhwan steps over the threshold, a paper bag in one hand.

“Nice place,” Jinhwan says, eyes flicking around curiously. “I was expecting something… flashier?”

Junhwe’s cheeks burn. “I mean, I could have got a bigger place if I really wanted. But there’s no point, right? It’s just me living here, and the only visitors I get are my parents, my sister, my manager, and now you.” He shrugs, gesturing to his apartment at large. “So here is my humble abode. Do you want, like, a tour or something?”

“That would be nice.” Jinhwan reaches out, taking Junhwe’s hand in his free hand as he holds up the bag with the other. “I brought drinks.”

“Oh, thanks hyung,” Junhwe says. “Guess we can hit up the kitchen first.”

He walks a few steps over, where his kitchen sits next to the entryway. “Here it is.”

Jinhwan laughs, leaning over to put the bag on the counter, after which Junhwe turns them both around. “And this is my living room. That door,” he points to one on the left, “is the bathroom. And that one,” he points to the other, “is my, uh, room. Where I sleep. Any questions?”

“Just one.” Jinhwan stands up on his tiptoes, lips brushing against Junhwe’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “Will I get to see your room?”

“Depends how thorough of a tour you want?” Junhwe manages to eke out. Why is it that he always ends up feeling like an awkward teenager again when Jinhwan keeps pulling shit like this? He thought he was smoother than that by now.

Jinhwan just smiles, letting go of Junhwe’s hand and walking into the kitchen. “Where do you keep your cups?”

“That cabinet in the corner—”

Right as the words leave Junhwe’s mouth and Jinhwan opens the cabinet in question, Junhwe remembers a few things:

  1. This is Junhwe’s apartment.
  2. He has a good twenty centimeters on Jinhwan in height, a difference made even more apparent when you take outstretched arm length into consideration.
  3. While Junhwe might think absolutely nothing of putting his drinking glasses on a higher shelf, Jinhwan is well on his way to climbing on top of the counter in order to reach them.



“Oh, god, hyung,” Junhwe mumbles, walking up behind Jinhwan quickly to grab two glasses before Jinhwan ends up cracking his head open on the tile floor. His chest presses flush against Jinhwan’s back as he reaches up, and Junhwe considers it a miracle in and of itself that he doesn’t drop the cups.

“Thanks,” Jinhwan says, taking them from Junhwe’s hands. “I brought some sparkling cider; I wasn’t sure if you wanted alcohol or not.” He takes the bottle out of the bag while Junhwe pulls a tray of ice out of the freezer and puts a few cubes into each glass.

“It’s fine, hyung, I have some soju in the fridge if you really want it.” Junhwe wonders if  _he’s_ going to be the one wanting the alcohol, depending on how this night ends up. Junhwe takes one glass in each hand as they walk to the living room, and he sets the cups down on his coffee table.

“What kind of movies do you like, hyung?” Junhwe asks as he turns on TV, switching to Netflix while Jinhwan pours the drinks.

“I like, ah, romance movies, usually,” Jinhwan says, his cheeks flushing just a little as he caps the bottle and leans back on the sofa. “It’s not really a guy thing, but—”

“No, seriously,” Junhwe laughs, gesturing to his recent views list, “this is perfect.” Jinhwan is perfect, really – Junhwe’s never met a guy before who had the same taste that he did.

Jinhwan beams. “Play whatever you like, then.”

Junhwe queues up one of his favorites, turning off the lights while the opening starts to play. He sits down on the sofa at the opposite side of Jinhwan, one leg propped bent up on the cushions while the other rests on the floor.

They sit like that for the first ten minutes of the film; the tension is thick, seemingly magnified in the darkened room.

Junhwe clears his throat. “Hyung, if you want, you could… over here…”

His words are failing him again. Excellent.

Jinhwan doesn’t seem to mind, scooting over on the sofa wordlessly until his head is resting against Junhwe’s chest. “Okay?” he asks.

“Yeah.” It’s definitely okay, if you ignore the fact that Junhwe’s heartbeat is probably off the charts, and Jinhwan can probably hear it, now.

Another fifteen minutes pass; Junhwe’s started taking to absently stroking Jinhwan’s hair, to which the elder responds with a soft hum. He’s barely paying attention to the movie anymore, since he’s seen it before, but once the couple onscreen starts making out, Jinhwan turns to blink up at him.

“Wanna?” he suggests, and Junhwe doesn’t need to be asked twice before he’s pulling Jinhwan up to sit on his lap, the elder kissing him slowly as Junhwe leans back against the armrest of the sofa. They don’t kiss like this often – usually they’re a bit in a rush, sneaking what they can in Jinhwan’s car sometimes before the elder has to drive home so he can go to sleep at a decent time for work, or the rare, daring kiss in an alleyway. And while sure, Junhwe’s never been opposed to a heated makeout session, the way Jinhwan looks at him now is so tender, so loving, that Junhwe now knows what it’s really like to get lost in someone’s eyes.

“How ‘bout you give me the bedroom tour now?” Jinhwan whispers.

“Excellent plan,” Junhwe replies, shutting off his television and rising to his feet, fingers tangling with Jinhwan’s as he leads them over, opening the door and tugging Jinhwan toward the bed. The elder lies down on his back, his fingers gripping the front of Junhwe’s shirt as he pulls him down to kiss him again.

Junhwe’s heart feels so full – he’s never felt this way before in his entire life.

“I love you,” Junhwe says as he breaks the kiss, and the words feel so  _right_ , like he’s finally put a name to the feeling he’s had all along.

And Jinhwan smiles, radiant even in the darkness.

“I love you, too.”

He pulls Junhwe back down again, pressing their bodies tight together as hands roam underneath fabric and skin touches skin.

Junhwe’s had sex plenty of times before, but after that night, Junhwe thinks he finally understands the difference between that and making love.

 

 

_Second Chorus: I thought what we had was love, almost hit me right out of the blue, the way you fit right next to me and made me feel something new. I never wanted to let go, I thought that this was true. If you’re listening to this, baby, know that this song goes out to you._

It’s almost frightening how easy it is to love Jinhwan.

Junhwe’s never been in love before. Certainly, he’s loved people, like his family members, and he’s had crushes. But he’s never felt like his entire world could ever center around someone besides himself – Jinhwan’s the other half that Junhwe never knew he was missing.

He’d asked Jinhwan the next morning if it was alright to write music about him – while Jinhwan had expressed a few reservations at first, once Junhwe had assured him that there would be no specifics, and no one would ever have to know who the muse behind it all was, the elder had readily agreed.

Junhwe had written his first love song later that evening, sending the rough draft off for approval. It was dubbed by Donghyuk to be “something I’d never thought could come out of your mouth, but it’s genuine.”

Junhwe feels as though he could run off of this forever, living in a never-ending sensation of happiness.

The problem, though, is that even though Junhwe’s head is up in the clouds, there comes a point where he has to come back down to earth.

Junhwe’s grown complacent, so wrapped up in his own life that he’d almost forgotten about his social status – no matter how averagely he sees himself, how average of a life Jinhwan has, he is a celebrity.

And being a celebrity comes with certain risks.

For example, the fact that if someone sees him in public, that might soon end up on the internet. And while he’s learned to cope with that, a certain other person who isn’t famous hasn’t.

One afternoon when Junhwe wakes up, he finds a text from Donghyuk with a link to a post on Pann mentioning his name.

 _just thought you should know,_ he’d said,  _we’re not going to release any statement about it because there’s no real proof, but you might want to watch out._

Junhwe’s no stranger to gossip, and when he was first getting started in the industry, he would sometimes look himself up for fun to see what people were saying about him. He’d use the positive to bolster his ego, and the negative to improve. For the most part, though, he hasn’t looked up those sorts of things in a long time.

Maybe that had been a mistake.

 _Koo Junhwe, dating???_  the post title reads, and Junhwe’s heart seizes as he opens the link. His eyes dart over the words, letting out a long exhale of relief when he finds that there are no pictures, but the person who posted it seems quite adamant that it was, in fact, him, detailing where the alleged sighting had been, as well as what Junhwe had been wearing.

Junhwe almost drops his phone as he remembers that day - it was a Sunday, and he and Jinhwan had been walking back to Jinhwan’s car. Junhwe remembers playing with Jinhwan’s beanie, yanking it further down his head as they turned a corner.

_he was with someone shorter than him, reached to about his nose. i could only see the backs of their heads, and the person june-oppa was with was wearing a hat. they kept holding hands… has our june-oppa finally started dating??? who is it… i want to know..._

Donghyuk’s guess was true – the comment section is split between people who think it could be true since Junhwe’s been out of the public eye for a while, people who won’t believe it without picture proof, and people who are just in disbelief, period.

_Koo Junhwe: should i tell him?_   
_Kim Donghyuk: up to you._   
_Kim Donghyuk: but if you’re in a relationship, shouldn’t he be involved in any issues that involve him?_

Junhwe falls back against his pillow, his phone falling out of his hand onto his stomach. He feels uneasy, knowing that his secret could possibly be out. Based on past experience, he’s pretty sure this singular incident will blow over in a few days, but the internet never forgets, and it’ll be waiting for Junhwe to mess up again.

Normally, Junhwe likes to pretend his problems don’t exist if he can. There’s a very high chance that Jinhwan hasn’t seen the post, and likely never will. But Donghyuk’s right, again, and Junhwe knows that if this is to continue, Jinhwan needs to know.

_Koo Junhwe: hyung, come over after work?  
Kim Jinhwan: sure_

Junhwe is restless as he waits for the hours go by, wondering if he’s made a colossal mistake. He would never regret anything when it comes to Jinhwan, but the  _what if’s_  weigh so heavily on his mind that they threaten to bury him. The public would not be kind in the slightest – Junhwe would never forgive himself if Jinhwan ever got hurt because of him.

Around seven in the evening, Junhwe hears his front door unlock, and soft footsteps walking through his living room to the bedroom.

“Hey, June-yah,” Jinhwan says. He’s still in his work clothes, but he climbs up on the bed to rest next to Junhwe anyway.

Junhwe presses a kiss to Jinhwan’s temple, reaching an arm around him to cuddle him close. They lie there like that for a while, Junhwe just stalling for time while he figures out how to try to broach the topic. How does one even say “so some people may have caught us on a date, guess we can’t go outside anymore”?

Jinhwan shifts in Junhwe’s hold, running a hand over Junhwe’s arm. “Why’re you so tense?”

Junhwe lets out a long sigh, before deciding that the best course of action would probably be just to come out with it.

“We… remember last weekend?” he hedges.

Jinhwan nods.

“We got… caught,” he continues, watching Jinhwan’s face for any signs of displeasure. “No one took any pictures or anything, but… I just thought you should know. We’ll have to be more careful from now on. I’m sorry for being careless.”

“It’s not your fault,” Jinhwan murmurs, his eyes closing. Junhwe knows him well enough by now to know that this means Jinhwan’s thinking, and doesn’t want to be disturbed.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” Junhwe tries again. “I’ll be more careful next time. We can just stay in, and I won’t do anything in public—”

 “Stop.” Jinhwan’s voice is firm, bordering on cold. “Please, Junhwe.”

Junhwe can tell Jinhwan’s unhappy, but he doesn’t want to push the subject any more – he doesn’t want Jinhwan to snap. Jinhwan’s never gotten seriously angry at him before, and Junhwe certainly doesn’t want to start now.

They lie there a while longer, Junhwe running a hand through Jinhwan’s hair and wondering if Jinhwan will say anything else. He knows that the elder can be a bit guarded when it comes to certain things, but he usually comes around after a while.

This time, though, Junhwe’s not sure. Jinhwan doesn’t bring up the topic again after that, and for the next few days, he seems a bit withdrawn – his responses to Junhwe’s messages are slower and shorter, and when they do meet up again, it’s Junhwe who ends up initiating almost all of the intimate contact.

As time goes on, Jinhwan seems return to normal, and they put the incident behind them. But Junhwe can’t help but wonder when Jinhwan staunchly keeps a distance between them in public, looking over his shoulder every few minutes, if their moment is up.

 

 

_Bridge: People say all good things come to an end, but I didn’t listen – I thought that was an ‘if,’ not a ‘when.’ But it all came crashing down, I almost wondered if this was a mistake. I guess it just goes to show that all it takes is a single night to make two hearts break._

It’s a day that starts out like any other. It’s Saturday, Jinhwan’s off of work, and Junhwe asked if he’d wanted to come over to watch a movie.

Jinhwan had accepted, bringing over a bag of chips – one of Junhwe’s favorites – and some assorted drinks from the convenience store.

“Hey, hyung,” Junhwe greets as Jinhwan lets himself in. He’s queued up something from Netflix, a romance movie that had come out recently. To be honest, they’re probably not going to end up watching much of the movie anyway, but they’ve never called each other up just for sex and they’re not going to start now.

“Hey,” Jinhwan replies, toeing off his shoes and sitting down on the couch next to Junhwe, who wraps an arm around him easily and pulls him down so he’s lying back to Junhwe’s chest, a gesture they’ve repeated time and time again. Jinhwan sets the bag of chips on his lap, and Junhwe presses play.

They try to follow the movie for the first half hour or so, just eating chips and drinking coffee milk and making offhand comments about things that are happening in the film. Somewhere along the lines, though, Jinhwan turns his head to kiss at Junhwe’s jaw, eventually setting the bag of chips at the other end of the couch and turning over onto his stomach to kiss Junhwe properly, tongue sliding over Junhwe’s lips as he deepens it. Junhwe responds in kind, one of his hands slipping under the hem of Jinhwan’s shirt, a broad palm splayed over the small of Jinhwan’s back.

“Bed?” Junhwe asks after a bit, and Jinhwan nods, legs wrapping around Junhwe’s waist as he stands, Junhwe’s hands coming up to support Jinhwan’s ass in a well-practiced motion as he carries them to his bedroom, pushing Jinhwan down onto the bed and tugging Jinhwan’s shirt off over his head before doing the same himself.

There’s something hungrier in the way Jinhwan kisses him tonight, his hands clutching at the back of Junhwe’s neck, pulling him closer and closer. Junhwe’s not complaining, but it’s different from their usual – slow, sweet, pretending that they have all the time in the world.

Tonight, it seems like Jinhwan’s on a one man race to nowhere, hell-bent on bringing Junhwe along with him as he pushes down his own jeans and boxers in one fell swoop, thumbs hooking into Junhwe’s to urge him to do the same.

“June,” Jinhwan pants, lips red and kiss-swollen, “please.”

Jinhwan sounds desperate, which isn’t something Junhwe’s unfamiliar with. But there’s something odd that Junhwe can’t quite pinpoint as Jinhwan begs him to go faster while Junhwe preps him, hips jerking insistently.

His ankles lock around Junhwe’s back as Junhwe pushes into him, keeping Junhwe’s chest almost flush with his own. His eyes seem to bore into Junhwe’s, his eyes teary, almost pleading.

Junhwe would be lying if he said he didn’t find it a little unsettling. But he just closes his eyes, kissing Jinhwan hard and hoping that at least Jinhwan finds some comfort in knowing that he will always be here for him.

Jinhwan finishes with a low sigh, Junhwe following soon after, and Junhwe rolls off of him to the side of the bed, chest heaving with post-sex exertion.

The room is silent, save for their breathing.

“Junhwe,” Jinhwan says suddenly, his voice still breathless, but there’s something serious about his tone. “I need to tell you something.”

“Yeah?” Junhwe asks, propping himself up on his elbow and threading his fingers through Jinhwan’s hair, messy and sweat-damp. “What is it, hyung?”

“We,” Jinhwan starts, swallowing thickly. The air is tense, suddenly – Junhwe’s hit with a horrible sense of foreboding. “Junhwe, you know I love you, right?”

“Unless you’ve been lying to me this whole time, then yeah, I know,” Junhwe says, a weak attempt at trying to lighten the mood.

Jinhwan sighs, staring resolutely at the ceiling. “I… it’s…”

“If you’re going to say ‘it’s not you, it’s me,’ then just stop right there.” Junhwe frowns, withdrawing his hand from Jinhwan’s hair. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“This was never meant to last.” Jinhwan’s eyes close, and it’s almost as if he’s trying to convince himself. “This is supposed to run its course and we’re both supposed to go back to the way things used to be. You’re supposed to forget all about me in a few months and get swept away by some gorgeous fellow celebrity and I’m supposed to go back to my office job, get married and have a couple of kids and maybe a dog, and look back on this occasionally with fond memories of the time I once caught the attention of a singer.”

“You’re the one who talked to me first,” Junhwe says, purposely ignoring the point Jinhwan’s trying to make as dread starts to pool in his stomach, “so technically, it’s the time I caught  _your_  attention, right?”

“Would you have noticed me if I hadn’t?” Jinhwan asks wryly.

“That’s—that’s not a fair question,” Junhwe retorts. “I was only at that bar to drink. If I’d gone for the purpose of trying to meet someone, then yeah, I probably would have noticed you.”

“I read some of your interviews,” Jinhwan muses. He’s still not looking at Junhwe. “You said your ideal type was someone sexy.”

“You are sexy, though,” Junhwe says, the edges of desperation starting to leak into his voice. “I mean, I wouldn’t have sex with you if I didn’t think you were, right?”

“June—” Jinhwan sighs. He sounds so  _resigned_. He’s already made up his mind, and nothing Junhwe can ever do or say will change it, but Junhwe’ll be damned if he doesn’t try anyways.

“Hyung, can’t we—can’t we work something out?” Junhwe asks. “I mean, we never have to go public with this. We can do anything you want. Please, Jinhwan, I just…” Junhwe feels his heart clench painfully in his chest as Jinhwan just looks at him, his eyes so  _sad_ , knowing he’s the cause of it all. He wants to take away all of Jinhwan’s hurt, but he doesn’t know how.

Jinhwan closes his eyes. If Junhwe looks closely, he can see the beginnings of tears starting to leak out of the corners of Jinhwan’s eyes. If he looked in the mirror, he would probably see the same.

“This needs to end now,” Jinhwan says, a hard edge of finality surrounding a core of teary reluctance, “before either of us gets hurt more.”

The worst part is, Junhwe can completely see the logic behind this. He’s a celebrity; Jinhwan isn’t. They’re both guys. Their worlds were never meant to cross, if not for that one night. This would never – could never – end well. And there’s nothing Junhwe could ever do to fix it.

Junhwe hates it so, so much.

(People always say if you love someone, you have to let them go.)

“I love you,” Junhwe says, his voice a broken whisper. “Is… is that not enough?”

“I’m sorry,” is all Jinhwan replies.

There’s silence again. Things haven’t been this tense since they first met.

“Can I ask for one last thing?” Jinhwan’s voice is small, hesitant. He sounds scared – Junhwe wants to hold him close and never, ever let go.

“Anything.”

“Can we – can we have this one last night? Just pretend nothing happened. I… I want to leave with a good memory, at least.”

“Of course,” Junhwe says. It’s a miracle his voice doesn’t break.

Jinhwan turns to face Junhwe, kissing him softly on the lips before he buries his face in Junhwe’s chest. Junhwe tries to ignore the fact that Jinhwan’s trembling, whimpering softly, tears wet against his skin.

Jinhwan succumbs to exhaustion soon after, his body going slack in Junhwe’s arms. He feels so small, so fragile. Junhwe wants to protect him from the world, wants to whisk him away somewhere where nothing can hurt them.

Where they can be happy.

Junhwe stays awake as long as he can, wanting to capture the image of Jinhwan in his head as much as he possibly can before the imminent end. He never wants this moment to end – never wants to have to let go.

But exhaustion overcomes him, darkness washing over him as his eyes close.

(He dreams of Jinhwan, and they are happy.)

When Junhwe wakes up several hours later, the world outside still dark, the other side of the bed is empty and the sheets are cold.

He cries.

 

 

_Final Chorus: I thought that our love could overcome it all, but even the strongest sometimes fall. I miss seeing you every day, my heart misses you in every way.  I wanted this to last forever, but now I know the answer to that was never. But if you’re listening to this, baby, know that this song goes out to you._

It’s almost frightening how easily Junhwe slips back into his old routine.

The next day, he wakes up at noon, checks his phone (there are no messages from Jinhwan), and makes himself a bowl of ramyun.

 _we broke up,_  he texts Donghyuk, then proceeds to turn off his phone, not interesting in replying to the barrage of messages that he knows is going to come.

He feels so empty – his apartment feels too large, despite the fact that he’s always lived there alone.

He puts his bowl in the sink, then moves to lie on the sofa. His and Jinhwan’s empty drink containers and half-eaten bag of chips are still on the coffee table. The image makes a lump form in his throat, heavy and suffocating.

Junhwe doesn’t want to believe this is real, but he knows it is.

He is numb for nearly a week – time barely seems to pass, but it also passes far too quickly. He stays inside until he runs out of food, and even then he orders delivery for another two days.

Eventually, he decides that he needs to get on with his life, cleaning up the assortment of snack wrappers that have accumulated around his apartment, robotically dumping them into the trash. He does laundry next, watching the clothes spin around in the washer and dryer and wondering if this is another life metaphor, spinning around aimlessly until the machine stops and the contents fall to the bottom of the drum in an anticlimactic plop.

He can put this behind him, and he will.

(He’s still so, so very lonely at night, and his phone seldom rings anymore.)

So Junhwe copes, picking up the pieces of his life. He puts all the contents of his phone’s photo albums onto a folder on his computer, trying his best not to stop and look at any of them, knowing that once he starts, he’ll never be able to stop. All the gifts they’d exchanged go into a box in the back corner of his dresser – out of sight, out of mind.

(As much as Junhwe thinks it might be easier to throw everything away, to start anew, there’s a part of him that knows it’ll hurt more once the initial pain has faded away.)

He writes several more songs to fill the time, putting his emotions into something more constructive, sings rough versions and sends them to the label. They’re sent back with suggestions here and there, but for the most part the executives seem satisfied. Junhwe’s kind of surprised, since he hadn’t thought they were too great, but he won’t question things that make his life easier.

 _These are all fine_ , the messages say,  _but they’re not quite title track material._

Junhwe wracks his brains to try and think of what else he could possibly write, what else he hasn’t touched.

(He knows exactly what’s left, really, but he’s also afraid of what might happen if he goes there.)

“You look terrible,” Donghyuk says by way of greeting one afternoon as he lets himself into Junhwe’s apartment.

“So do you,” Junhwe cuts back from the couch, but his voice lacks its usual sharpness. Hell, he doesn’t even sound much like himself, his voice rough from disuse.

“Have you even left your apartment this week?” Donghyuk asks, taking in Junhwe, who’s lying on the sofa. He grimaces a bit. “You look like you haven’t seen the light of day in eons.”

Junhwe’s been trying not to look in the mirror lately – shocking, for someone who usually takes great pride in his physical appearance, but if he looks as terrible as he feels, he doesn’t really  _want_  to know.

Donghyuk takes Junhwe’s silence as his answer, sighing as he sits down at the other end of the sofa.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Donghyuk asks. “Sometimes it helps.”

Junhwe mulls this over for a bit. He’s never really extensively talked about his feelings to anyone (okay, one person, but he can’t very well talk to the source of his anguish right now), preferring to sort through his own head on his own.

But he’s changed a lot, these past months. Maybe it’s time to give something else a try.

“Everything hurts,” Junhwe says. “I… I miss him. So much.”

Donghyuk nods, doesn’t say a word. Junhwe’s half expecting him to whip out a little notebook.

“I still love him. But I don’t regret anything. I don’t want to take anything back. I just… I want him to know.”

There’s silence again as Junhwe thinks. There’s so many things he wants to say, but doesn’t think he ever can in a regular conversation. It’s kind of ridiculously cheesy, when he thinks about it, but the best way Junhwe’s been able to express his feelings before was through song.

“Actually, you know what?” Junhwe says suddenly, an epiphany washing over him. “I got this. Get out of my apartment, Donghyuk.”

His manager does, with much grumbling, but Junhwe feels so  _alive_ , suddenly. It’s weird, but he’ll roll with it.

It’s almost too easy, how quickly the words come to him, melodies looping themselves in his head. He spends the entirety of the day on it, picking out rhymes and humming to himself, trying to sum up everything he possibly can.

It’s a slow ballad, supplemented by simple instrumentals, letting just his voice and the lyrics through. It’s nothing like the slick, well-perfected songs that Junhwe’s usually used to, but it’s everything he had in him. It’s a story, vague enough that it could apply to anyone, but at its core, it’s  _his._

When it’s finished, after he’s sent it off, he already knows that this is the one.

And with the final approval, it begins.

The next month passes in a whirlwind of recordings and rehearsals and everything in between. Keeping busy helps to keep Junhwe’s mind off of things – there are some days where he doesn’t think about Jinhwan at all, too occupied during the day and too exhausted at night.

The night before the concert, though, panic starts to set in.

What if this all goes wrong?

What if he can’t go through with it?

Junhwe stares at his phone, flicking through his contacts until he lands on the one he’s looking for. He almost stops himself, almost shuts his phone off and pretends he never had the thought.

But he knows this will keep eating at him unless he does it, so he types up a new message.

_this might sound narcissistic of me, hyung, but i’d like it if you came to my concert tomorrow. just ask for donghyuk at the door._

Junhwe sets his phone facedown on his bedside table and tries to fall asleep.

 

 

_Outro:_

The concert hall is silent as the final notes of the song fade away into the air. Junhwe lowers his microphone, bowing as applause starts to fill the air. He’s not crying, he tells himself, as he closes his eyes, takes a shaky breath.

He feels empty. Not in a good or bad way, just… somewhat numb, devoid of feeling.

“Thank you for coming, and please get back safely,” he remembers to say, waving one last time as the platform he’s standing on descends. He steps off when it reaches the ground, handing his microphone to a waiting staff member as another starts to dab the sweat from his face.

“That was really good,” Donghyuk says, walking up briskly to Junhwe as he returns to his dressing room to change and take off his makeup. “Junhwe, you’re topping the search rankings. I think this really is your best yet.”

Junhwe laughs humorlessly, allowing the stylists to remove his jacket before he sits down in a chair, a makeup artist wiping at his face with a cotton pad. “That’s nice.”

Donghyuk’s expression softens, picking up on Junhwe’s mood. “Other than your public image, of course, it was great. Really. I know this was hard on you, but I think… it was something you needed.”

There’s silence as the stylists exit the room, leaving just Junhwe and Donghyuk there. Junhwe bites his lip, a need to know burning at the front of his mind, but he doesn’t know how to express it.

“Did he…?” Junhwe eventually settles on, voice trailing off, knowing that Donghyuk will know what he means.

Donghyuk steps to the side wordlessly, revealing someone in the doorway that Junhwe hasn’t seen in months. Junhwe’s eyes widen, his lips parting slightly in shock.

“So this is what it’s like backstage.” The musing voice is soft, but it hits Junhwe like a train.

“I—I didn’t think you’d actually come,” Junhwe blurts, which is met by quiet laughter.

“You asked me to.”

Junhwe rises to his feet, walking closer to him. He almost doesn’t think this is real. Is post-concert high really a thing? Can it cause hallucinations?

“You can touch me, you know.” A touch of amusement, as always. It’s almost the same, only now there’s just a trace of sadness.

Junhwe reaches out hesitantly, but at the moment of contact it’s like something overcomes him, his hold tightening just like it used to. It feels like coming home.

“Jinhwan-hyung,” Junhwe breathes out, the first time he’s said the name since he’d left.

“June-yah.” Jinhwan smiles at him, reaching one arm up to pat him on the head. “You did well out there.”

“Thanks. It, um, means a lot to me.”

There’s a lot Junhwe wants to say, and a lot he can’t say. How can he tell Jinhwan that this is all because of him? How can he tell Jinhwan that he loves him still, probably always will, and wants to stay in this moment forever?

After what simultaneously somehow feels like an eternity and just a second, Jinhwan steps back, letting his arms fall to his sides. Jinhwan’s mouth opens, as if to say something, but bites it back, teeth pulling at his lower lip.

“I… I should be going now,” Jinhwan finally says. “Congratulations, Junhwe.”

He leaves with a wave and a hint of a smile, and Junhwe lets out a long sigh as he watches Jinhwan go. He feels an odd sense of content, even though there are still some lingering feelings in his heart.

Still, though, he’s grateful for everything that’s happened, and wouldn’t take any of it back for the world.

_I love you, Kim Jinhwan. Thank you, for everything._

**Author's Note:**

> find me on:
> 
> [tumblr ](http://ridethishoe.tumblr.com) | [twitter](http://twitter.com/loverikonic) | [livejournal](http://greycheonsa.livejournal.com/%22)


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